


In the Service of the Queen

by airspaniel



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: F/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Yes, my queen," he says, and obliges. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Service of the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/cerebel_fics/70566.html?thread=1474470#t1474470) for the [Sekrit Cabal Porn Battle](http://community.livejournal.com/cerebel_fics/70566.html) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/cerebel_fics/profile)[**cerebel_fics**](http://community.livejournal.com/cerebel_fics/).

He's always preferred dark skin, chocolate and honey and caramel; wild golden eyes and lithe, almost boyish builds on his women. Wanton creatures, adventurous and athletic, that wring his pleasure out of him in ways he can't even dream of, and laugh the whole time. Women to whom sex is a game to be played, to be mastered, and he's had more than a few mistresses in his time.

She's not at all his type, Zero thinks, even as she twists her hips in a way that drags a moan out of his throat. His hands clutch at her hips, long fingers digging into flesh so pale it's nearly translucent, and Azkadellia gasps and bucks harder against him; leaning forward to take him deeper inside.

The faint blue cast of the moonlight catches her hair, indigo highlights in raven waves, and Zero lets his hands slide up the arch of her back, burying his hands in it. Her breasts brush his chest as she rides him, and the curve of marks just above them (he'd think they were tattoos, if he hadn't _seen._ ) is so tempting, the dark lines almost lurid against her fair skin... He drags his tongue over them, goes back, traces the designs with just the tip, and they crackle like electricity under his lips.

Azkadellia cries out, one hand bracing herself up while the other reaches down to where their bodies meet, rubbing fast, firm circles on her clit in counterpoint to his thrusts.

She's so close, he can feel it, and every time her fingers brush the base of his dick, it feels like she's dragging him over with her.

Her back arches and she goes still, clenching around him, mouth open on a choked off sob that was nearly his name. But she is his queen, and is too proud and powerful to give him such a gift, even if he deserved it. She collapses forward and he catches her, thrusting up once, twice more before he comes, holding her hips tight, so tight against his own.

In the precious few seconds afterwards he gathers her close, and she lays her head on his shoulder and lets herself be held, just for a moment. Then she snaps up, imperious and commanding once more, and orders him out; orders him to continue the hunt.

"Yes, my queen," he says, and obliges.

And even though she isn't his type at all, when next she calls for him in the moonlit night, he will answer; and he will do whatever she requires, give her whatever she needs.

He is nothing if not obedient.


End file.
